Chapter 81: Luo Luo’s Sword
When Mao Qiuyu spoke these words, people suddenly remembered the ages of the four people on the field.
The oldest, Gou Hanshi, was only twenty years old.
Guan Feibai was eighteen.
Chen Changsheng and Luo Luo were even younger.
They were all still young people. Some were in the Penetrating Obscurity realm, some in the upper level of Sitting Reflection, and someone like Chen Changsheng hadn’t even succeeded in Marrow Cleansing. Among the crowd of senior experts watching from the stone steps before the hall, any one of them could easily defeat them, let alone compare them to the Lone Sovereign of Zhou or His Majesty the Taizong Emperor from years past.
But they were truly young, so young that no one could confirm their future. Tonight, they had already displayed a level that shocked the world. Who could dare to assert how far they might eventually go?
People quietly watched the sword wind and sword rain on the field, listening to the names of those techniques, silent and with complex emotions. In their view, the outcome of this contest between the National Academy and the Li Mountain Sword Sect tonight was no longer important. Or, to put it another way—there would be no loser tonight.
But Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi didn’t think so, nor did Luo Luo and Guan Feibai. Tang Thirty-Six, who was more nervous than anyone on the sidelines, and Elder Xiao Songgong, whose expression grew increasingly venomous—as the parties involved, the National Academy and the Li Mountain Sword Sect only wanted to defeat their opponent.
No one knew how much time had passed.
Truly, no one knew.
The hundreds watching and the two sides on the field had all forgotten the passage of time.
Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi’s speaking pace didn’t slow, but their voices had gradually grown hoarse.
Luo Luo and Guan Feibai’s strike speed didn’t slow either; they remained accurate and steady, but their breathing had become increasingly rapid.
Finally, at a certain moment, Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi both fell silent at the same time.
All the body movements, all the footwork, all the sword techniques had been exhausted. The water receded, revealing the white stones.
At some point, the dozen or so zhang of distance between Luo Luo and Guan Feibai had vanished without anyone noticing.
They faced each other. The Falling Rain Whip and that ordinary long sword met in the night sky, soundless and silent.
This contest had lasted a long time. Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi each took a step forward onto the field.
Luo Luo and Guan Feibai had used hundreds of sword techniques and countless forms of body and footwork to cross that dozen or so zhang.
At that final moment, they met, whip and sword touching.
This wasn’t a tacit agreement; it was natural and seamless, and thus beautiful.
The sword trial had reached this point and finally met. It wasn’t the exhaustion of oil and lamp, but the setting of the sun over the mountains, as if it were time to end.
The Falling Rain Whip and that long sword had already met. Since they couldn’t use true essence, naturally they couldn’t continue.
Such a fierce, even dazzling contest ending in a draw—this was truly beautiful, fitting the aesthetics of cultivators.
Silence fell before the hall.
A long time passed, and still it was silent.
Then, suddenly, applause rang out.
The one clapping was Dean Mao Qiuyu.
Next came Prince Chenliu, the Archbishop, and then everyone, including Patriarch Qiushan and Xu Shiji. No matter how ugly their expressions, they too began to clap.
The applause grew intense, rising like wind and rain, interspersed with sighs and admiration.
People praised the grace that Luo Luo and Guan Feibai had displayed in this sword trial, and even more, they admired the vast knowledge and ability that Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi had shown to the world. Especially Chen Changsheng—many looked at this youth, thinking with shock that he was indeed worthy of the respect Princess Luo Luo showed him. If he could cultivate, wouldn’t he become a second Gou Hanshi?
The Archbishop whispered two sentences to the priest Xin behind him. Priest Xin took the order and left, leading his subordinates to approach Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi respectively, offering them the nourishing spirit pills from the Li Palace. Many might think that Luo Luo and Guan Feibai had expended the most energy in this sword trial, but the Archbishop understood that the mental and spiritual drain on Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi was truly terrifying. Especially Chen Changsheng, who couldn’t cultivate and couldn’t use true essence to nourish his spirit. If he didn’t take the pills in time, he might suffer severe damage or even leave lasting aftereffects.
Unexpectedly, Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi didn’t take the pills. They didn’t even glance at them.
They still stared at the field, at Luo Luo and Guan Feibai.
Only then did the watching crowd notice the strangeness on the field.
Luo Luo and Guan Feibai hadn’t withdrawn the whip or the sword. They had no intention of leaving the field.
The crowd fell silent again, staring at this scene in surprise, unsure what would happen next.
Refusing to accept a draw?
Had this contest not yet ended?
……
……
Luo Luo and Guan Feibai ignored the countless gazes fixed on them, because they both had their eyes closed.
The Falling Rain Whip and that long sword met in the night sky and then didn’t separate.
They closed their eyes, sensing each other’s will and thoughts through the slight tremors transmitted back through their palms.
Luo Luo’s clothes were soaked with sweat, steaming white in the chilly autumn night air, making her look like a celestial maiden.
Guan Feibai closed his eyes, his brows like swords. A bead of sweat slowly trickled between his brows, like the last peerless general on a battlefield.
Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi quietly watched the field, their faces somewhat pale, but they said nothing. They had done everything they could, ensuring that Luo Luo and Guan Feibai hadn’t failed in the earlier part of the sword trial. Now, the ones deciding victory or defeat were no longer them, but those who had been fighting for a long time.
Without any warning, Luo Luo and Guan Feibai opened their eyes at the same time.
The long sword swept horizontally, moving freely and casually!
In the night, several white silken threads suddenly appeared—the turbulent flow of the sword blade cutting through the air!
Gou Hanshi’s eyes lit up.
He recognized this sword technique. It didn’t belong to the Li Mountain Sword Sect, nor to any school. It belonged only to Guan Feibai.
This was a sword technique Guan Feibai had created himself, named after his own name—Feibai!
Feibai was a brushstroke style in calligraphy, its momentum like soaring flight, with dry silk-like connections and striking blank spaces in between!
This brushstroke had to be a dry, parched touch—a dry brush—taking its essence from that sense of barrenness!
This sword technique was certainly not Guan Feibai’s most powerful strike, but it was undoubtedly the one he understood most deeply!
From inside the hall to outside, the always proud and unmatched Guan Feibai had suffered too much humiliation tonight and endured too long. Even during this lengthy sword trial battle with Luo Luo, he had constantly suppressed his anger, executing his sword coldly, even cruelly, following his senior brother’s guidance exactly, until this very moment…
Tonight, he had suppressed himself for too long.
Yes, he hadn’t reached the final point of exhaustion, because he had never used true essence. But the fury and pride in his heart had been simmered by time until they were nearly dry and barren.
At the final moment, he finally unleashed the momentum he had suppressed all night. This momentum was powerful, enough to soar, and carried that sense of barrenness!
Without needing to use true essence, relying solely on such powerful sword intent, he could shatter any opponent!
……
……
The moment Guan Feibai moved his sword, Luo Luo also moved.
What sword technique would she use to counter this Feibai strike?
The Falling Rain Whip suddenly tightened, perfectly straight, like a carefully chosen branch.
She stared into Guan Feibai’s eyes, ignoring his sword completely, not looking at it, not paying it any heed. Gripping the whip handle, without hesitation or delay, she thrust it forward!
Yes, there was no technique, no variation, no sword intent or accumulated momentum.
She held the whip as a sword and simply thrust it forward like that.
The Falling Rain Whip, like a branch, didn’t need to rise; it went straight forward, then fell.
Just like when Chen Changsheng, in the National Academy’s library, had held that branch and thrust it toward her body.
This thrust, of course, used no true essence, yet in the night sky, a buzzing sound of air being torn apart rang out.
One could imagine how fast it was.
One could imagine how many times she had practiced this thrust.
Earlier, people had been puzzled: most Li Mountain Sword Sect disciples came from hardship, so they practiced swords tirelessly, diligent and resilient. But Princess Luo Luo, as the sole daughter of the White Emperor, how could she endure so much hardship?
In White Emperor City, no one dared to discipline her, so it wasn’t something taught.
Although Chen Changsheng dared to discipline her, she was so obedient and sensible—why would she need discipline?
There was indeed a teaching rod in the National Academy, but aside from using it to guide her true essence flow, he had never used it for anything else.
Luo Luo trained herself.
For a reason she didn’t want others to know, from the time she understood things, she had longed for strength.
So she cultivated diligently and practiced the sword with great hardship.
……
……
Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi stared at the field, silent.
Luo Luo and Guan Feibai’s final sword strikes seemed unrelated to them, but in truth, they were still connected.
The guidance they usually gave Luo Luo at the National Academy and Guan Feibai at the Li Mountain Sword Sect would be reflected in this final strike.
That Luo Luo and Guan Feibai had the opportunity to unleash this final strike was, in fact, the result of their own painstaking efforts.
Since they couldn’t accept a draw, there had to be a victor and a loser.
Who would win? Was the sword stronger or the whip faster?
People watched the field, their expressions tense.
Guan Feibai’s sword, like a dry brushstroke, painted across the night sky, or like a whip in the hand of a god.
Luo Luo’s whip, like a branch, pierced the night sky, or like a sword in the hand of a god.
……
……
The sword rose.
The whip rose.
The sword fell.
The whip did not fall.
……
……
In Guan Feibai’s eyes, a flash of pain appeared, then was overtaken by disbelief.
He lowered his head to look at his chest. The fabric there had been torn open. The Falling Rain Whip, like a sword, was embedded there, blood slowly seeping out.
He raised his head to look at Luo Luo, shocked and furious, wanting to ask something but unable to speak.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
The Falling Rain Whip hadn’t advanced further; Luo Luo had already stopped.
His injury was very light. The blood from his mouth wasn’t from Luo Luo’s whip, but from the eruption of anger, resentment, and other emotions that had injured his heart meridian.
“You yield,” Luo Luo said.
She withdrew the Falling Rain Whip, clasped her hands in a salute, her expression calm, and turned to walk toward Chen Changsheng.
Chen Changsheng looked at Gou Hanshi across the night, slightly bowed, and clasped his hands in a salute.
Gou Hanshi was silent for a moment, then returned the salute.
Chen Changsheng looked at Luo Luo, a faint smile appearing on his somewhat pale face.
Seeing him smile, Luo Luo also smiled happily.
This sword trial had finally ended.
Victory and defeat were decided.
Luo Luo had defeated Guan Feibai of the Four Laws.
The National Academy had defeated the Li Mountain Sword Sect.
Who could have imagined such an outcome beforehand?
The entire venue was dead silent.
Suddenly, a voice rang out.
“If I could have used true essence, your final whip thrust would never have gotten through.”
Guan Feibai stared at Luo Luo’s back, his face pale, his tone defiant.
Luo Luo stopped in her tracks.